


Time is like a Sword

by Ash_Rabbit



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Ancient Egypt, M/M, Slow Burn, Tagging as I go, Time Travel, Working title, ignoring fanon, puzzlejune 2020, romance is just friendship with smooching yes?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:00:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24548038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ash_Rabbit/pseuds/Ash_Rabbit
Summary: Finding himself 3000 years in the past, Yuugi uses his foreknowledge to try and prevent the collapse of Atem's kingdom.Or Time is like a sword, if you don't cut it, it cuts you.30 prompts find themselves forced into a linear story, whether or not they're meant to be.
Relationships: Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi | Atem
Comments: 20
Kudos: 48
Collections: PuzzleJune 2020





	1. Doors

Yugi stares dubiously at the dig site, the bustling archaeologists brush past him with arms full of equipment, and a low murmur blends with the humming desert heat. 

If he concentrates on the buzz for long enough he can pick up snatches. “Cursed - snake - death trap.” His fingers dig into the rough canvas of his carry on, Isis hadn’t mentioned anything like that in her call. 

“We found a lead on Atem’s true tomb.” She said, “It’s full of puzzles, we could use your help in expediting the process.” She said, “Wouldn’t it be grand if the world could know his name, we could ensure his stay in the Field of Reeds is eternal.” He plucks at the thin cotton of his button-up, violet already blotting the lavender.

How could he argue with that, though if she had led with, “Atem’s true tomb is even more secure then the false tomb.” Yugi would have packed more than a few spare changes of clothes, and his deck. His duel disk for one, would’ve been incredibly handy if the halls were cursed with monsters of any variety, not just serpentine.

A hand drops lightly on his shoulder, and Yugi stiffens. “Thank you for coming, Yugi.” Isis smiles, a sly upturn of the lips. “You can commandeer my duel disk, I have it waiting for you in my tent.” 

Yugi squints at her. Isis hasn’t changed in the slightest in the interim months, still all knowing and carrying that omniscient confidence, despite the lack of shadowed gold at her clavicle. “Have you found yourself a new fortune telling device?” He asks, sweeping already sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

Her smile grows brighter, eyes crinkling a touch as she says, “Malik bought me a Magic 8-ball for my birthday, you're welcome to bring it your queries.” 

Yugi snorts, trailing after Isis’ swirling linen skirts. “What’s your success rate?” It was odd in a way, how Isis was the only one draped in swathes of cream, whilst everyone else favoured clinging tank tops and many pocketed bottoms. Though Isis outside of her typical regalia was hard to imagine.

“Well enough for something that offers little detail. Ryou gave me a delightful book on tarot readings the last time he and his father made a visit.” Isis answers in a very non-answer sort of way. “Though he swears that deck readings are the most informative.”

“I’m surprised the Domino Museum's willing to fund this expedition, especially with it's past history with Egypt exhibits.” Yugi prods, thinking of broken teeth and missing hearts. His othe- _Atem_ hadn’t liked to talk much about the days before Death-T. Just the odd muttering about duty and providence. Never enough to go off of, and his prying was always stonewalled or he lost his nerve, creating an awkward silence that had echoed through the dark halls of their shared mind.

“Director Bakura is as enthralled with the occult as his son; a lost pharaoh linked to the items he's hunted for decades. He couldn't resist.” Isis replies, pulling a flap of canvas open on a non-descript tent. It’s interior is bland, a bedroll is tucked neatly in the corner and stacks of paper sit tidily around a desk covered in even more notes. A wooden chest sits beside the bedroll, and that's what Isis goes to. She flicks it open, drawing what can only be a duel disk from it’s confines. “I rarely duel, and sand has a tendency to find its way into all electronics.” She hands him the bulky fabric parcel, not even a spark of the care or possessiveness that haunts most Battle City veterans, there'd been a rash of thieving once Kaiba had released the news of digitized models. 

He undoes the tidy cord bow and unwraps the hefty hunk of tech. All releases after the initial duel disk lacked the same weight and durability, Mokuba had explained design costs, materials and affordability all contributing to the thin aluminum shells of new disks. ‘The only reason the first disk was allowed to release as is, is because it was out of pocket, Kaiba Corp would make negative if we had to subsidize every sale even by twenty-five percent. The quality is worse, but at least everyone can afford it.’

Isis’ duel disk looks brand new, no tell tale dents and scuffs that littered the disks of the other finalists. But then, Isis hadn’t faced the Rare Hunters as the rest of them had. 

“Do you want me to head to the tomb now, or later?” He asks, strapping the familiar weight to his arm. 

“Now, the team hasn’t wanted to venture further in the past few days.” Isis says, picking at the pages that litter her desk. “There was a stelae, crumbled in parts, but what we did get was the mention of the Pharaoh’s Serpent, and traversing the otherworld.” 

“Osiris was buried with the items.” Yugi frowns, that’s not to say that was the only serpent, but…

“There were other serpent deities, this is the one we think they meant.” It’s a sketch of what looks to be a coiled snake, body fragmented like game tiles. “This is a Mehen board, in the Amduat he was one of Atum’s guardian. Though he is one of many, it seemed the most fitting.” 

“If you know what the game is, why do you need me?” Yugi asks, lips twitching. Of course there would be another gauntlet of games guarding his resting place. “You’re just as skilled a duelist as the rest of us, and I doubt I’d fare any better than you.” 

“You don’t want to see his journey all the way through?” Isis asks, and he swallows under the weight of her stare.

“Haven’t I already?” He whispers, eyes fluttering closed. Shining sunlight beats against his lids as a silhouette slips through the door.

“If you do not wish to, you do not have to.” Isis says, but he follows her anyways.

The tomb’s entrance is deserted for the most part, but lingering workers peer through their tent flaps, or fuss with the nearby scaffolding. 

“Is that?”

“Mutou Yugi!”

“In Egypt?”

“His pendant, remember?”

Isis doesn’t pause, sweeping down sand dusted steps with steady footing. Yugi does his best not to fluster under the stares and steps in the little divots left by Isis. “You didn’t tell anyone I was coming?”

“They would have swarmed you the moment you stepped on site.” Isis says lifting an oil lantern from the ground. “Most electronics tend to do poorly down here.”

“The duel disk?” He asks, trying not to stare too hard at the dried blood that spatters the murals.

“How many shadow games have the duel disks facilitated?” Isis asks, pushing a wall etched with an all too familiar eye. The stone grinds open and he darts in as the hidden door drags itself closed.

“Ah.” Yugi exhales, gaze trailing over the time worn glyphs. After they’d visited the memory world, Atem had done his best to impart what snatches of his culture he could. ‘I was able to absorb all your knowledge, such to the extent that I thought I was you.’ Atem had whispered during their long flight to Egypt. ‘There’s no reason it can’t go both ways.’

Atum litters the writings, but why wouldn’t he, he was the beginning and end of all things.

“Are you aware of the rules of Mehen?” Isis asks, pulling a handful of marbles out of the folds of her dress.

“The multi-player or two player?” Yugi asks, picking through the fragmented memories. Was it the marbles for the roll, or the mother-cub iteration. 

“We are likely engaging another, the marbles will be our cubs.” Multi-player then, though he was curious as to why Isis had brought her own set if that's the case.

“It would be disrespectful to show up unprepared.” Isis says as they enter a lit chamber. On the floor in spiralling lapis lazuli and pale limestone is a coiled serpent, a single lion statue sits in front of the tail. “You carry a dice in your deck pouch, yes?” 

“Of course.” He says, fishing the amethyst die out. Atem had insisted on curating a good dice collection, between Ryou’s Monster World, and Duke’s affection for anything dice based, it was necessary to have dice for every occasion. Most of his sets had the numbers repainted in gold or some thematically relevant metallic. “The highest roll is three, yeah?” 

“Yes, as the youngest your roll will be first. Roll one to enter the board, anything that’s attributed to two or three will pass to the next player.

He steps forward, grandpa had always made sure Yugi knew how to cheat, and as such, spot cheating. Though there wasn’t an official method to cheat at craps (loaded dice were for chumps), dice control was heavily frowned upon. The skill had been a life saver, in reaching criticals, and the disaster that was ‘Black Clown’. The bounce wouldn’t be as controlled, though he could angle for a dice slide after a feeble fall. Getting onto the board was the true challenge, everything else was basic cat and mouse tactics.

A careful flick of the wrist later, and Yugi has the advantage. And then, the game. As he steps onto the final lapis tile, it sinks beneath his weight and another wall sinks back.

“The archaeologists made this place sound a lot more deadly.” Yugi says as he hops off the tile. Though that could also be attributed to not entering any of the false rooms.

“Intent plays a large role in the tomb’s reception.” Isis says, ushering him forward. “The shadows would be disinclined towards any other, though vestigial the unsuspecting stand no chance, especially when their desires read as a tomb robbers would.”

“And you would lead them here, knowing this?” Yugi asks, watching Isis with narrowed eyes.

“Whether I assisted or not, the tomb would be found. This is damage control Yugi.”

He frowns, he'd forgotten how callous the Ishtars could be to the fates of those outside their duty.

“Right.” He says for lack of anything else.

They pass over a tablet bridge, these monsters different, though familiar nonetheless. His lips tug upwards at the site of ‘Marshmallon’ a good guardian, but a ruthless choice. A sarcophagus rests in front of a large slab of stone carved to look like a doorway. It’s plated in gold, a high ranked official, or if Isis is right, Atem. No cartouches were present, but his ot- Atem had erased himself purposefully, though a childhood name would be just as well for immortalising him.

He approaches the stone carvings, tracing the thin opening and tell-tale eye with his own. “A false door, those would’ve fallen out of fashion around the Middle Kingdom; Stelae were favoured, carrying prayers for the dead instead of a single pathway.” Atem’s reign carried an odd mix of eras, but that could be attributed to the chaos of reestablishing Egypt as purely Egyptian.

Yugi rubs the pooled sand out of the grooves and hisses as sharp stone catches on the meat of his thumb. Blood spatters the chipped glyphs and he sends a quiet prayer in the hopes that nothing happens.

The gods have abandoned him, light as brilliant as the desert sun spills from the false door. His shadow _twists_ and his heart sticks in his throat as Isis’ panicked shouts are drowned out by sudden vertigo, 

and

the

world 

falls 

away


	2. Ambition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is ambition but a desire, a wish that one has the drive to work towards?  
> Or setup part 2, the electric boogaloo.

Ambition

He stumbles on his landing.

Tripping into a world of pale gold sand and gauzy white drapings. It’s all very lavish from the golden clasps fashioned to look like fish, each scale a different pearlescent hue, and the towering pillars covered in perfect etchings. 

Yugi can only think that this is one of four things; one, he fell through a spell on the false door and is now in a separate room. Unlikely if only because sunlight streams through the pillars, and a gentle breeze moves the curtains. Two, he’s dead, triggered some booby trap and met the fate of a tomb robber, moderately likely, this was much nicer than being swallowed by shadows and there were no Ammit in sight. Three, he’s dreaming or Isis sent him on a Kaiba funded goose chase that led to virtual reality, those two were rather conspiratorial for supposed opposites, always catching him in the beginnings of a bad run and dragging him away from his worst feelings, literally in Kaiba’s case. Or four, something magical is happening. 

He’s hoping it’s number three, it would almost be touching with how much work was put into this.

That hope is quickly dashed.

Akhnamkhnum stands between two pillars, draped in his red robes and bleach white linen. Gold eyes framed by crows feet crinkle warmly in greeting.

His hands ball into fists and acid burns the back of his throat, his punch is caught before he even registered throwing it. He hadn’t even felt himself move, as if his will had shifted him.

“Your love for young Atem is admirable.” He smiles peaceably, like a father humouring their son. 

Yugi’s other hand is caught by the wrist. A loose iron shackle, his hand is as cold as death.

“Allow me to adopt another guise to ease you.” Akhnamkhnum _ripples_ , figure drawing taller, hair turning wild and inky, a face that is reminiscent of Kaiba’s and someone familiar. Yugi stumbles back, wrist slipping through the larger hand.

“Ramesses.” Yugi exhales as the face clicks. “Am I dead?”

“The second.” The God of the Dead affirms, with twinkling gold eyes and the same peaceable smile that was much less offensive than before. “Not quite, though you should know that tomb robbing is quite the offense.”

Yugi stares, this was Millennium Items levels of strange. He pinches himself, frowns and then pinches himself again. Osiris still stands before him in the guise of the most renowned Pharaoh. 

“You were never rewarded for your services.” Osiris continues, striding across the sand dusted limestone with absurdly long legs.

“Atem was released from the puzzle, wasn’t that?” Yugi asks, trailing behind him.

“Ha!” Osiris barks, spinning to face Yugi, his white drapings flaring dramatically. “You fought for his release, and Atem’s place in the Field of Reeds was never in question.”

Yugi relaxes, exhaling a breath he hadn’t noticed holding. 

“Your wish upon the puzzle was dispelled by Zorc’s game, and as such we will grant you a new boon.” Ramesses continues, and Yugi blinks, his friends hadn’t left him, not truly. They simply went on to pursuing their dreams. 

“What’s the catch?” Yugi blurts, cringing at the bluntness. An explanation to soften the accusation! “The puzzle was a trigger for the apocalypse, there must be something.” 

Osiris only laughs. “The greater the wish, the greater the conditions for maintaining it. Bringing back the dead would carry more rules than a wish for treasure or greater stature.”

Yugi frowns, if bringing back the dead was possible, then anything could be wished for. But what did he wish for? What did he want more than anything?

His other self, Atem. But to take him from his well deserved afterlife would be nothing less than shameful. His nails bite into his palm and he worries his lip; but, he didn’t necessarily have to bring Atem to him.

But could he bear it? Walking away from his friends, grandpa?

Anzu was off to an American dance school and they had ended their relationship after a month, it had been awkward and his crush had burned itself out by then. They were better friends, not that their dates had varied from their regular hang outs anyways.

Honda and he had never been very close, always more of Jou’s friend than his, though they would always be friends after all the craziness they’d been through, Honda wouldn’t miss him.

Ryou had become something of a ghost, delving deeper into the occult and waving away their invitations constantly. Yugi worried about him after everything the ring spirit had put him through, but Ryou just mumbled something about making a new model.

Jounouchi would miss him, but he was busy with the dueling circuits, gaining a large following in North America under the stage name of Joey Wheeler after some motorcycle stunt. Honda surely had a hand in it, honestly, card games on motorcycles were way too dangerous.

Grandpa though, he was all grandpa really had. But, he would definitely chew Yugi out for throwing away an opportunity like this. 

Okay.

Yugi lifts his chin and stares the obnoxiously tall God in his eyes. “I want to go back in time and help my other self, so that he doesn’t need to seal himself away for three thousand years.”

Osiris grins, wider than a human could ever dare to manage. “Be specific in your terms, young one, the past carries many nexus points.” His canines gleam and the lapis gems that adorn his robes gleam darkly. “And you cannot contradict your ability to make this wish.”

Yugi swallows, right that struck out preventing Kul’Elna altogether. He could have borne watching Atem with a two decade disparity so long as he was safe.

But no, Atem was destined for the puzzle, unless-

“Send me back to the earliest days of Atem’s rule as Pharaoh, and um, let me have a valid way to gain entrance into the court.” Yugi gusts out, before tacking on a, “Please.” He bows at his waist, wondering if he should drop to his knees in further deference. 

“How very like Atem.” Osiris muses. “The rules will be many, to exist as such.”

That was of no surprise. Yugi nods watching the way light reflects off of each easy gesture of Osiris’ ringed hands. 

“Should one of you die, you will both perish.” Yugi squawks, the God raises his hand. “Second, no quickening of deaths, you cannot murder Akhenaten or the Thief King, their time is known. Doing so would contradict your presence in that time, after your wishes resolution you will have needed a reason to make the wish.” 

He scowls, tossing out most of his plans. 

“Third, you cannot inform anyone of your knowledge of the future, immediate or otherwise.” Osiris’ grin grows as his frown deepens.

“And if Akhenaten reads my thoughts?” Yugi asks, fingers tracing the socket of his eye.

“The second part of your wish will cover that. Fourth, leave monthly offerings at one of my shrines and spend an hour in prayer.”

“Okay.” Yugi sighs. “Do you have a preference?”

“Anything from the Offering Formula will do, but fish and plant seeds would be acceptable as well.” A genuine smile this time, gold eyes soften at the edges and look like amber catching the sunlight. “A fifth condition though this is for your own sake, adopt a new name, Japan won’t have the Yayoi settle until two millennia later, and another two to consolidate as a kingdom.”

A fair point, he could try Timaeus and play himself off as an odd looking Greek, or wing it entirely. The dragon knight surely wouldn’t mind, unless, no, he’d have to wing it. Atlantis coincided with Atem’s reign. 

“Is there anything else?” Yugi asks, running through his available plans. Atem has to be sealed in the puzzle regardless of what he does, he can’t contradict any key events that will lead to him making this wish in the first place. The core players don’t have to stay the same for events to happen, but it would provide more known variables. The rules were clearly defined, not a lot of wriggle room, but he’s sure he can find a way to bend fate, for no other reason than for ensuring a better ending for Atem and his friends.

“Just one thing.” Osiris says, stepping until there was only a rulers length between them. A sun kissed hand stretches between them and Osiris rests his fingertips over his sternum. Yugi swallows as he feels the chilled digits burn against his fluttering heart. “This may sting.”

“Wha-” Yugi chokes, a shock hits his _heart_. His chest _burns,_ and the world spins out of focus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yugi and Atem meet next chapter, setup is in two parts since it followed the prompts better.  
> I don't think I can ever genuinely like Akhnamkhnum after reading Merikare's Instructional text, so have some bias.  
> Took longer mostly because of essay panic and finicky wording (which is still busted but coherent enough) I could make a spin-off about all the ways the phrasing of the wish could be exploited, but that's neither here nor there. Time shenanigans are always a little tricky but assume that this is supposed to be something of a circular loop.  
> I'll probably pick more at dialogue inanities later, for now I'll nap.  
> Please feel free to comment.  
> Posted: June 11th 2020


	3. Warmth

Warmth

The desert heat is near suffocating, especially so in the bustling markets of Wadjet, but Yugi is loath to rid himself of the linen cloak. It was the only barrier between him and the burning sun. He couldn’t be sure if it was being the only pale skinned person in the area or if Osiris had done something, but his complexion was verging on ghostly with the blue-green of his being stark against the thin skin of his wrist. The hood was also very handy, hiding his hair and shadowing his face, though it garnered him suspicious looks from the other market goers.

Osiris was nice enough to provide him with time appropriate wear, his deck replaced with thin slips of papyrus, the duel disk traded out for a golden diadankh that was slung into a coarse linen sack, his feet bore sandals and his pants and shirt had been replaced with a single shendyt. 

though the shendyt was uncomfortably thin.

He knew, intellectually, that the shendyt was of the highest quality, and that nudity meant little to Kemet’s residents, but his modern sensibilities has his sweaty palms smoothing the skirt and hovering around his front. Atem had worn something like a tabard, and a top, probably to stop sun baked gold from burning his skin. Thankfully Osiris had left him with minimal jewelry, his choker and wristbands were exchanged for the bands the Ishtars favoured, and swaying gold feathers hung from his old piercings. And yet, he still felt underdressed compared to the brightly beaded passerbys, but the thought of wearing more eye-catching adornments has his stomach knotting.

Speaking of his stomach, it gnaws viciously at his insides as it growls fiercely. 

Despite everything, he has no money, and no promised way into the palace grounds.

The first problem was easy enough to solve, gambling was a sure fire way to win something, and he could easily barter gold jewelry for simple coin. The second, well his appearance was a surefire way to draw attention, but it may be in his favour to avoid the palace from the get go. He could track down Bakura, if that was even his name, and see if he could be reasoned with. They held a common enemy, and if they could build a proper case that didn’t involve tomb robbing, Bakura might have a solid chance at not being sentenced to eternal nothingness.

There was little he could change within the palace as he is, nothing more than an ill omen or impostor. 

Right then, money, then food, then Bakura.

Atem’s memories held the knowledge of many a gambling spot, which must have aggrieved his court greatly. Yugi however, was eternally grateful that his other self would ski[ his lessons to learn and play common games.

Two blocks down from the fish stall at the docks were a group of crooked players; Atem had only played them once before Set had dragged him out, ranting about poor disguises and knowing better. 

Yugi knows plenty better, especially how to catch a con-artist in the midst of his act. 

He arrives at the scene of an incredibly messy haired brunette wailing in her darkly cloaked compatriots arms. A little over dramatic, but there was a sincerity to it, though it seemed she was trying to convince her friend to win back whatever she lost. A lapis amulet it seems, judging from the way one of the game makers held a palm sized cabochon up to the sun. His friends hang back, the tallest one tossing a pair of shining bone dice into the air casually. A simple dice game for something that expensive? She must have been confident in her luck.

An expensive trinket, what could be worth gambling that for?

Information? 

He examines the brunette, ah.

Mana, and judging by that too long, too new hem, Atem. Set would be on his way soon, arriving just after the men assault Atem for winning. There was no need to intervene, but those men would soon be arrested and most gambling pits would go dead shortly after, only picking up a few weeks later. He couldn’t afford that.

“That’s quite the amulet you’ve got there, would you be interested in a wager?” He steps into the alleyway with a genial smile. “I’ll put up my own charm here, for that, and any information you have on a young man with an old facial scar and white hair.” He touches the pin that holds his cloak, the same as the fish clasps from Osiris’ inbetween. Mana and Atem look alarmed, whether it’s the description or a stranger's intercession.

The men, adorned with poorly crafted wigs, and bright beads look between each other. The stockier one who hung back murmured something into the pendant holders ear, and the lanky one snarled a rebuttal. They're snappish in their whispers and Yugi wonders why they haven’t gone for it yet.

The craftsmanship and raw materials of the fish brooch was well worth more than a chunk of precious stone. Though there is a touch of uneasiness that lingers in the tension between their shoulders and the flicker of their eyes. Yugi’s gaze trails to the bone dice that are hidden in the fist of the tallest. 

“It was a simple dice game, yes?” he says when they don’t respond. Yugi supposes he’ll have to make his own rules, something incredibly unbalanced at first glance. Their dice had caught the light marvellously, too much so. “We each get a single dice roll, whoever rolls higher wins, if we tie the victory is yours as well.”

Traditionally loaded dice were packed with copper shavings, but the hollowing out reduced the dice’s structural integrity, if he could ricochet one dice off the other with enough force he could cause a split, adding a seven to whatever roll was made.

“We’ll use the same dice set in the name of fairness of course.” Yugi adds as the silence draws longer. He’s tempted to ask if they understand him. 

The gamblers are looking between themselves, murmuring too low for him to hear. Mana and Atem are murmuring as well, he wants to fidget, scratch the back of his head or tap his toe to rid himself of the thrum of nervous energy. But, that was a tell, the moment he was uncomfortable his opponents would sense something was up, or they could try and rob him flat. They didn’t look to be criminals, not malicious ones at least.

He blinks as a flash of blue is hurtled towards him, the cabochon is tossed his way and he raises both hands to catch it, exhaling in relief as he doesn’t fumble the catch. The dice are smashed against the wall by the stockier man and the one who held the cabochon spills.

“He has no name, but they call him the Thief King.” his voice is hush, and his eyes dart along the shadows. “He grudges against soldiers, collecting their arms and gold, they say he’s a vengeful spirit, an agent of Isfet come to strike down the Pharaoh’s just rule.”

That was wholly unhelpful, well the arm collecting was new, and the superstition while unheard was expected. Though the lack of game while welcome was unsettling.

“Where was his last sighting?” Yugi cuts in, this was likely common knowledge and a spiel to get Yugi off their case. 

“I- I cannot say.” the man whispers. “He has placed a spell on my tongue.”

Yugi snorts, and the man flinches, his friends have already given him a wide berth.

“So you know his location.” Yugi says, it would be a hindrance if Atem was tracking the Thief King with this information as well. He thumbs the delicate grooves in the lapis lazuli pendant, and tilts his head towards Mana. “Catch.” a gentle toss, but her expression is drawn. She and Atem make no move to leave. Nothing he says will change that, whether he acknowledges their identity or not, and hostility would only garner hostility in return.

“He will hunt our families, and steal our tongues!” The lanky one spits, more bold then his friends, but then if he was that tall he would probably be braver too. Tall people were like that, or maybe it was just the tall people he had met. Though maybe some of them were more foolish than brave.

“Do not refuse Medjed!” The stocky one’s voice is rough and reedy. Medjed was an afterlife god, shrouded in white, wasn't he? “I would rather have a horrible death then a horrible afterlife!” He turns to Yugi. “He has been seen throughout Upper Kemet, only at night. He frequents the households of soldiers who warred against the Hyksos before Pharaoh was born. But travelers, they say that they catch sight of a restless spirit in the ruins of an old city off to the west of the Valley of the Gates of Kings.”

From the corner of his eye he can see Atem stiffen beneath his heavy robes. His father had just been interred hadn’t he. His fingers twitch under his drapings and he shoves down the urge to comfort his other self, he’s a stranger, a suspicious one.

He can’t recall when Priest Set showed up, but it should be any minute now. It was time to leave, Yugi turns, cloak already fluttering when a hand drags him back.

“That is no God!” The lanky one hisses. “He would know of the Thief King already.” Yugi stiffens as he’s pressed against a nearby wall, hood falling. Gasps flood the little alley, and one of the men lets out a choked garbled plea.

He’s dropped immediately. His attacker stumbles back, fingers frantically gripping at the sand beneath him.

Yugi sighs, he hopes they don’t bow or attempt to kill him once they realize he’s not Atem. He picks himself up, and attempts to brush the sand from his shendyt. Futile of course, but it gives his hands a purpose.

He turns to Atem and Mana, Mana who has Atem’s hand in a death grip and seems uncertain as to whether she should stand in front of or behind Atem. He gives the brightest smile he can, the one that’s plastered across the newest cardboard cutouts of himself. “You two should get going before they realize you’re here, Set will lecture you for days.” A shadow falls on the alleyway. “Ah, it’s too late.”

“If you’re out gambling again Mehen--” a codename? “--I will wring your neck, Gods forbidding or not!” Set storms as he sweeps into the alley. He really does look just like Kaiba, skin tone notwithstanding of course, the features are all a little darker or larger, the Priest carrying a thicker nose bridge and larger lips, but the bone structure is one and the same.

A squawk sounds from behind him as the snap of quickly tugged fabric cuts through the silence. One of the men whimpers, and Yugi’s lips twitch, but he drops the incoming smile as Set seems to loom even taller. This was not what he meant when he asked for a reason to enter the palace, he wanted to rescind that request anyways. 

Maybe he should have gone and prayed before looking for food money.

“Mana, what did you do?” Set asks, in the even tones of Kaiba promising a painful and humiliating death.

“It wasn’t me!” Mana huffs, and the smile is stifled once more as he fixes the way his cloak sits, he wonders if he’ll need his diadankh, Set though not bearing one at the moment, has a blade hanging at his side.

Yugi peers behind Set and sees a handful of soldiers, too many to slip past, and his face was already known. He exhales quietly and presses against a wall, settling to study Atem’s face. 

He’s young, the same age Yugi was when he solved the puzzle, the same rounded cheeks and short stature. His eyes are wide, a soft crimson that was fixed on him. 

Atem approaches the hem of the cloak in hand, skittish like a cat, circling around Set and Mana who were still bickering and striding purposefully towards him. 

“Who are you?” Atem asks, chin tipping upwards, voice not even quivering in the slightest despite his nervousness. Atem’s hand raises, adjusting the oversized cloak jerkily, an aborted attempt. His heart flutters. 

Yugi looks at Atem, Atem who is shorter than Yugi for the first time. Soft in a way he has never seen him, and thinks maybe he can change things from the palace.

He tips his head to the side, and riffles through his options. Yugi smiles, genuine this time, for the first time in a year and shrugs easily as a near forgotten warmth settles between his ribs. “I’m just a nameless shadow passing through.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really am going at these prompts at an angle to make them narratively coherent huh.  
> Might rework it later to make the warmth less shoe horned. But hey finally in Kemet and Atem showed up!   
> I 100% stress wrote this so it's not very smooth and barely followed my chapter outline, but it still works with my overarching outline!   
> If I do any editing it will not be today, my heads still spinning from my exam, so let me know if anything looks off.   
> A cabochon for those who may not know, is one of those half circle gems, their really great for pasting monster pictures to the bottom of for nice low budget D&D monster tokens.  
> Update will probably be in a week or so, but I still have an essay to finish up.   
> Posted June 19th 2020


	4. Ritual

Ritual

Priest Set drags all of them back to the palace, their hoods have been tugged back up, but knowing whispers follow their walk of shame. Well ride of shame in Atem’s case, the shortest member of their party sat behind the Priest, swaying awkwardly as he loosely clutches the grumpy giant. How unenviable, though his situation was hardly better all things considered.

Yugi himself is flanked by Set’s entourage of soldiers, though his face is hidden the soldiers can’t seem to bear to even look at him. They cast glances at him every so often, but every time they notice him noticing their stares, the soldiers immediately look straight ahead. He almost wants to laugh, never in his life has Yugi been considered anything close to scary, well not as himself anyways.

Mana, flits ahead, almost keeping pace with the trot of Set’s horse, it’s brown, chestnut? He’s not really a horse person, the most he knows about horses is that it’s odd for Set and Atem to be riding the horse itself, they were used purely for drawing chariots in Ancient Egypt according to archaeologists. But then, they couldn’t know everything about long past civilizations. 

The gates leading into the palace grounds are unmistakable by their bright pigments and just as imposing as they were in the memory world, though the paint colouring the stone makes the imposing figures just uncanny enough to make him uncomfortable.

The palace itself is more narrow than he remembered, more linear as they walk through, what did the diorama’s call the initial entryway? A gate of appearance? He drinks it in regardless, it didn’t differ from the fragments of Atem’s recollections, but seeing it in person was different than a washed out memory. Everything is so much brighter, near blinding as gleaming resin reflects the brilliant rays of the sun. The guards press closer as his pace slows and a soft sigh escapes Yugi as the air thickens.

He walks faster, not by much, he doesn’t think Atem would allow for him to be skewered just yet, if ever, hopefully. This Atem doesn’t look like he’s prone to exacting penalty games, but the same can be said about his other se- the future Atem. Should he try to distinguish between past and present selves? They don’t seem to be the same, but he doesn’t know this other Atem well enough to make any assumptions. Except, he does, doesn’t he?

He can see just from how this Atem reacts to unpredictable elements, friendly strangers and pale reflections. It’s achingly familiar, is this what he had been like at the start of their journey? He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to focus on the courtyard, this first of two if his recollections are accurate. 

A spiralling limestone gameboard marks the courtyard's centre, the edges of the courtyard are trimmed with vibrant greens and simple stone benches. Mehen seems to be a common theme of Atem’s reign, the tomb had the same board, and that was the name Kai- Set had called out. Was it his name prior to ascension? He hadn’t thought Set would be the type to break etiquette, but then it was probably the lesser evil in chastising the disguised king by his childhood name. 

The next room is a pool, little buds of blue poking through the water. Was this the Amarna palace? He had been sure this was Wadjet, but then, Akhenaten had never been king, and Atem’s kingdom was razed absolutely after Zorc’s rampage.

Yugi starts as a voice roughed by age addresses the newest room he’s been led into. A throne room, going off of the nicely carved wooden chaise that sits on a small dais. The item bearers flank the unoccupied chair, the Dark Magician, Mahad stands to the left of the chair as Set glares Atem into assuming his seat. Akhenaten, the bearer of the voice that tumbles like a sandstorm, stands just behind the throne to the right. Yugi frowns, and keeps his eyes cast anywhere but Akhenaten’s face. His hood has fallen sometime during their entry, and to pull it up now would add to his list of imagined offences. The other priests seem unsettled by his presence, if Karim clutched his scales any tighter he would have warped the gold, but then, wasn’t the gold already warped by a hundred souls?

“Priest Set has brought to us troubling news, a man of unknown intent has donned the Pharaoh’s guise.” Better than being referred to as a malicious spirit, they might have tried to dispel him on the spot. Yugi’s not particularly sure what that would involve, but it would likely be anywhere between humiliating and extremely painful. “As such, we will begin an inquest to determine their true intentions and punish this-” Akhenaten sneers, a derisive curl of the lip, he thinks Akhenaten must be enjoying the prospect of crushing someone who bears the face of his nephew, “-agent of chaos.”

Atem’s head snaps towards Akhenaten and an admonishment is halted by a hawk-like stare. Yugi’s chest tightens, but he can’t say he expected much else, Atem would still be unused to ruling, and his uncle would be his guiding pillar in a sea of uncertainty.

“He helped us!” Mana says, pulling away from where she stood with the soldiers. “He knew who we were and he helped us!” Mahad is shooting what has to be the most stoic pleading glance Yugi has ever seen, it’s honestly impressive. The slightest twitch of the lips paired with the almost non-existent line of tension between his brows. “An agent of Isfet would never be so transparent in his actions.” Mana’s warmth loosens the forming knot, and he can feel his shoulders ease back.

A swift flick of Akhenaten’s wrist has the soldiers filing out. The warmth dissipates as ice floods his stomach.

“For one as kind-” naive “-as our Pharaoh the agent would similarly use methods of good intent to obscure his intentions.” Akhenaten dismisses, and Yugi can’t contain the twitch of amusement. “Look how this spirit mocks us even now.” Akhenaten says, wrinkles cutting malice into his every expression. “His tainted Heka prevents my eye from reading his thoughts, a clear indication of his ill intent!”

So Osiris had covered that, though he was unsure what that would have to do with his valid court entrance, surely imprisonment didn’t count as valid? It did get him through the palace gates and into the courtyard.

No, prayer was part of the deal, he couldn’t present offerings inside a jail cell. He swallows his anxieties down and forces the remaining tension into his toes, digging them into his woven sandals. The rough texture is grounding as it rubs the already tender flesh, sandals were awful, he'd have to look into a set of slippers.

“With Ma’at’s Scales we shall discern the truth of his heart, and cut through the obscuring sands.” Karim says, stepping forward, plucking an ostrich feather from his belt. “Should your lies weigh heavier than the feather of Shu, your guilt will be evident.” The feather is set on one of the scales. “Name thyself before the eyes of the Gods.”

Yugi should have expected this, should have settled on one before he had involved himself in anything really. But-

“As I have informed the Pharaoh, I have not decided on a name at this time for the Gods to know me by.” 

The scale does not twitch.

“All beings have a ren!” Akhenaten snaps, and Yugi shrugs with a placid smile.

“Names can be lost or forsaken should an occasion arise.” He says, gaze fixed on the unchanging scales.

“What occasion would require the condemnation of one's own self?” Mahad asks, his gaze flickers to the magician, his skin is tinged grey, as if his blood has fled his face. 

Right, names were one of seven vital components to the soul, they think Yugi has condemned himself, a sinner of his own making.

“There are things in life that hold value to me, people and places that transcend my need for a name.” Yugi settles on, he’s not sure if he can really talk about his conditions or deal with Osiris. There were no stipulations against that, but Gods tend to be extremely particular.

“If the eye does not work on him, then how can we know the rest of the items work?” Shada asks, the skin against his knuckles drawn taught as he clutches at the Key, or would it just be referred to as an Ankh here? “Ask him a question and instruct him to lie.”

Establishing a baseline then. Though does the intent or the lie matter more to scales of justice? Would a spoken desire to commit unjust acts weigh his heart as much as a denial of such desires would?

“Are you of Kemet?” Karim asks, a simple yes or no, one without ethics. 

“Yes.” Yugi says and watches as the scale wobbles, never settling. “Are they supposed to do that?” Yugi asks after the silence needles at him, pricking dozens of hair raising cold spots that have him near shivering in the blazing desert heat. 

They don’t answer, Akhenaten has swept over to Karim and Shada, Atem is stiff in his chair flanked by Set and Mahad. Isis, merely looks at him curiously while Mana is off to the side whispering to what has to be Siamun and another older looking man. He doesn’t remember him from the memory world, though he seems to be at ease with Mana.

“I suppose-” Yugi says, watching the court start as his voice echoes softly through the hall. “-that it is merely a matter of perspective to determine where I begin.” The scale settles, even once more. 

“Shada, use the key.” Akhenaten orders.

“The Scales of Ma’at have determined him truthful, if our vision of his aims are obscured, then it is the intentions of the Gods.” Atem says, rising from the throne, looking regal despite his plain adornments. His nerves quenched by his need for just proceedings, his lips tug upwards as warm memories echo back.

“We cannot be sure of his intentions, to bear your image in such a twisted and brazen manner is an action of dark intentions.” Akhenaten replies coolly. “You are the incarnation of Heru'ur, to make a mockery of you, is to sin against the Gods.” He sweeps back towards the throne and picks up Yugi’s little sack, he hadn’t noticed it getting passed from the soldiers to the priests. “Where would an ordinary man find a diadankh, and why would an innocent man have Ka spirits inscribed upon slips of papyri?” Well that was more incriminating then he had thought. “This man you defend, how can you know he has not stolen the Ka's of innocents or robbed Osiris’ tomb.” Atem recoils, stumbling back and Yugi’s heart constricts. He looks away, just away, not wanting to take in the looks of disgust at the false accusation. They’re already discarding the scales as a reasonable measure; he doubts he can escape from their dungeons with nothing to his name. 

Shada’s footsteps echo through stricken silence, halting in front of him. Up close Yugi can make out the barest of differences between the priest and Shadi Shin. More muscular for one, less mournful and more stern in the set of his face as well. 

The key settles between his eyes, and a thin smile crosses his lips as odd familiarity coils in his throat, nausea bubbles acridly as he stares down the gold into equally cold eyes. It rests coolly against his forehead, and Yugi represses a shudder at what it hosts. 

The Key is turned, and nothing happens.

“His soul is as impenetrable as his mind, we must draw out answers if searching inside is impossible.” Shada says, pulling the Key away.

“The God Scepter is to be used solely on criminals, we have no evidence of his guilt.” Atem says, voice stronger and louder in its uncertainty, his hands tightly wound in his cloak fabric. “We can't be sure he is a tomb robber," by all accounts Yugi wasn't, he just explored them "can we not try the scales again? They have had the best results.” 

“Set, draw out his Ka beast so we may judge the truth of this man.” Akhenaten says. Mahad looks ready to intervene, gaze flicking between Atem's stiff trembling and Akhenaten. He steps forward, but pauses as sandals slap across the stone.

“You go too far Akhenaten!” The man standing with Siamun and Mana exclaims, marching to stand between Yugi and the priests. “The trauma inflicted by a forceful draw will damage his soul.” He’s tall, and his back is strong, unbending despite his thinning silver hair.

“You hold no authority over the items chosen, Imhotep. You forsook your authority when you passed the ring onto Mahad.” Akhenaten sneers, and gestures for Set to continue. Set looks to Atem, expression souring another note, a quiet apology if he’s anything like Kaiba.

"I contest your decision!" Mahad says, and Atem visibly relaxes behind him. "Our Pharaoh has spoken for this stranger, should we not listen to him?" Mahad wets his lips as he inhales. "Would you go against Heru'ur?" Yugi inhales sharply at the accusation, Mahad was playing a dangerous game if he pursued this. Though the magician seemed to not care, eyes shining like the well honed edge of a blade, begging for a reason to bite into flesh.

Akhenaten sneers "The safety of Kemet is our primary duty, and that shadow of Heru'ur is a sure threat to what we uphold!" He turns towards Isis, and asks "You cannot see him, would you not say a man who's past, present, and future is unknowable, is a threat to Ma'at?" Isis looks thoughtful, before shaking her head.

"Just because he is not known to those items, does not mean he cannot be known through other means!" Atem says, his voice wavering as he cuts in before Mahad can. "This is needless persecution."

Akhenaten turns away from Atem, lip curled “Now, Set.”

The court erupts into shouting, Siamun has stalked over towards Imhotep and Akhenaten, the bark of his grandfathers voices carries biting rebukes as he cuts into the eldest item bearer. 

But that's the least of Yugi's concerns as Set circles around the men standing between them. Yugi turns to face him looking up into blue eyes shadowed by neat brown hairs, he was due for a trim, the tips brushing against thick eyelashes. 

The Millennium Rod’s axe head is leveled towards him, aligning with his heart. Set’s face is pinched, perhaps it has to do with his resemblance to Atem, or being caught between his father and his king. Well, father figure at this time.

“I command thee, come and reveal thy true intentions.” Set intones flatly, drawing the Scepter upwards in a gentle arc. A small mercy he supposes, only for all the air to be squeezed from him.

There’s a tugging in his chest, and Yugi chokes, like a hand yanking his heart out, like a shadow game. 

Set intones, sterner, and Yugi’s knees buckle as he clutches at his chest, red light seeps between his fingers.

The shouting's changed, he thinks, watching as the colours blur together.

Set commands him again, louder. Yugi’s sure of it despite the odd muffling, it was like being underwater; searching for glimmers of Exodia, the Puzzle, light. But there was no Jounouchi to help him. 

A larger pull has his whole body spasming, his bones shudder though the echoes of a sky splitting roar, and a blur of red and black surrounds him.

Blearily he sees a flash of gold.

Oh. That would explain it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, I whipped this up faster then expected. Editing, who's she? Accept my barely revised spiel.  
> I went back in for edits, but I'm pretty sure I just added more text, not entirely sure it fixed the issues I have with it.  
> I'm trying not to be fussy about this fic, since I only want to dedicate a day of writing to each chapter to keep with the daily prompt idea. But personally not a fan of this one, it's more for plot progression then anything else.  
> Is the Millennium Item trial a ritual? Technically, it's got a procession, specific items and intention.  
> I did not rewatch millennium world to see Ka sealing proceedings, but I'm sure this is similar enough.  
> If there was anything that was ill fitting, confusing or awkward, feel free to let me know.  
> Posted June 24th 2020


	5. Lucky

Lucky

He blinks awake slowly, the world made fuzzy and unfamiliar by sleep. Warm sandstone comes into focus as sleep is replaced by phantom aches that sap his strength, his bed is firm and unyielding, practically mediev- Yugi lurches upright, head spinning and slouches forward burying his face into his hands. 

Not even a few hours in and he already got the bad end.

Everything ruined, his breath catches as the first term comes back to him.

He dry heaves as the acrid taste of bile stains his tongue, gagging on the taste of his failure, Yugi throws himself off the bench and throws up a vile smelling yellow liquid that spatters across the stone.

His arms tremble under his weight, and Yugi falls to the side, pressing his cheek into the gritty stone.

Footsteps sound from behind him, halting abruptly, and Yugi curls tighter.

“I don’t want to hear it Osiris.” 

A vaguely familiar voice dryly says “You still walk amongst the living,” Yugi rolls upright immediately, and stares wide eyed at the tall not-priest, what's his name? “Though I am curious about your familiar tone.”

“Will you kill me if I refuse?” Yugi asks, rubbing at his mouth. He laves his tongue as discreet as he can manage against his forearm, the gritty sand and salty flavour are a welcome alternative to the acid that coats his mouth.

The man laughs, rich and warm, as he walks towards an odd assortment of pitchers. “Why would I do that after I worked so hard to keep you from crossing?” A wooden cup is set in front of him, Yugi peers into it. It looks like milk. A valuable commodity, too valuable for a stranger. Beer mash would make more sense. “Drink, you have already lost too many fluids. I swear on my name as a healer that it is not poisoned.”

He dips his tongue, tasting for salt or any odd flavour. It’s lukewarm, heavier on his tongue than expected, the flavour stronger. Yugi tips it back and drinks slowly, shivering as the acrid burn's replaced by the almost sweet flavour.

“You are quite fortunate, what damage was done to your soul was negligible, but it’s like nothing I’ve seen before.” The elder continues, he was Mahad’s predecessor if he’s recalling Akhenaten’s words correctly, so he was at least a good teacher. Perhaps the one to instill Mahad with his steadfast loyalty and values. “When Osiris’s dragon was drawn from your soul, I could see the scars.” Yugi stiffens, and looks at the man, searching wizened wrinkles for hostility. “It is as if it has been ripped apart and put together again repeatedly, Osiris did not rip a hole in your soul when he was forced out, so much as left an already formed void.”

So that void left by Atem wasn’t just figurative. A wheeze escapes him as sound fails to claw its way up his throat.

“However, the strangest thing of all, is that the largest void was not a scar, it was as if you were born with it.” Yugi freezes, that couldn’t be. The stench of his vomit filters back into focus as the old man continues. “It is well known an incomplete soul rarely survives birth, and will surely perish upon their eighth year.” That was when he got the puzzle, he sets the milk down, feeling it turn to ice in his stomach “You would not be here had Osiris not been so generous.” 

A bark of laughter slips from Yugi. He shoves himself to his feet, swaying as his body quakes from weakness. “A gift's usually a curse in disguise when it comes to Gods.” Yugi spits, he had not expected a warm welcome, or even a cordial one, but this was too-

It's a different type of cruelty then what he’d expected. His chest tightens, and he wonders if that’s Osiris, or his own feelings.

“It would do you well to not blaspheme in a Gods court.” The ma- Imhotep, it's Imhotep isn’t it- says. “Fortune will only take you so far before the Gods will weave a tragedy from your arrogance.”

He smiles thinly, each false twitch of cheek aches and sends a tingling sensation through his teeth. “Tragedy is something I'm well acquainted with.” 

“I suppose you would, as the Lord of the Afterworld’s vessel.” Imhotep tips his head, a small nod of understanding, it sends Yugi’s lip curling as pity blankets the room.

“I’d like to leave, where are my things?” Yugi says instead of the bitter words that sit heavily in place of the lingering taste of milk.

“Akhenaten has insisted on investigating the situation more fully, you will have to take your request to him or the Pharaoh.” Imhotep says, his dark eyes study Yugi, blatantly. “I know not of the nature of your physiology-” what? Why would his body be any different then a normal persons? “-blessed as you are, but perhaps a meal would do you good before you depart.”

Yugi’s stomach gurgles on queue, and heat floods his face as he tries to look anywhere but at Imhotep.

“Bread and honey would be best.” Imhotep murmurs, passing by Yugi. He pauses, looks at Yugi’s still form and gestures with a gentle swoop of his hand. “You may as well come with me to the kitchens, it is closer to the Pharaoh’s apartments than the healing ward.”

So they walk in silence. 

Upon entry to the kitchen, the healer's immediately approached by two servants, slaves? An older woman and a younger man. The older woman’s face is lined with laughter and framed by the dark locks of a woven fibre wig, she looks at Yugi curiously with an almost longing expression. The man is skittish, rushing off the moment Imhotep makes his request, sending Yugi nervous glances as he flits around the kitchen.

He’s led to a short table that sits atop a worn woven mat. Imhotep takes a seat across from him and Yugi follows suit.

“With a Ka as powerful as Osiris residing in you, your Heka will grow to better accommodate his summoning.” Imhotep says, Yugi frowns at him. “Heka is dangerous in the untrained, and with a God within you, a Judgement Game can be triggered at any time.”

A platter's slid between them, dark bread and a pot of chunky amber honey. Yugi takes a piece and rips the bread into bite sized chunks. “Where are you going with this?” Yugi asks, drizzling the viscous liquid over the pieces. 

“It is dangerous to fall unconscious when your Ka is summoned, even when their Ka is forcefully drawn out most are able to stay conscious.” Imhotep says, gaze intent. “The imbalance will leave you in many a disadvantageous situation, I would like to offer my tutelage to you.”

Yugi fumbles with the piece in his hands, honey smearing stickily across his palms as he catches it awkwardly. “Why would you want to?” Falls from his lips as he stares at the other.

“When your Heka is trained, it can stop your Ka from overwhelming the rest of your soul, Siamun and Mahad had the same issue so I am well equipped to handle such things.” 

“Why would you want to help me?” Yugi huffs, biting sharply into the sticky bread. “I’m an unknown, practically an enemy with the face of your king?” It’s uncomfortably gritty, sand grains grind against his teeth. “Why would you trust me?” It needs more honey.

“Osiris would not choose to entrust his power in someone of poor character.” Imhotep waves him off easily.

It’s odd to have that blind trust directed towards him.

“Ah! Imhotep I was looking for you!” Yugi’s voice sounds from behind them, and he whips around to stare wide eyed at his other self. Their eyes meet and a tremulous smile crosses Atem’s lips. “Hello, traveler, I hope I can make amends for my courts behaviour.” He dips into a soft bow and Yugi can hear a softer apology echo silently.

“It’s fine.” Yugi pushes out. Atem’s smile plummets. “Really, I’m a suspicious character, I could have been here to hurt you.”

“You are not, and would not. You would have acted within that alleyway if you had.” Atem frowns, arms crossing; Yugi supposes he’s trying to look stern, but with the last vestiges of baby fat rounding his cheeks, it's a laughably cute pout. Yugi bites into more bread to preserve the young king's dignity. “I said as much and they did not listen, had I held my courts respect this would not have happened.”

So that’s what it was. There’s a slight crease forming between Atem’s brows, it must be a lot of stress for someone so young, to have stress lines already etching themselves into his face.

“What can I do for you Pharaoh?” Imhotep asks, causing Yugi to start. Imhotep has a slight frown, the set of his mouth was pressed thin and stern.

“Ah, I had come to ask you about our nameless traveler here.”

“Shall I leave him your care then?” Imhotep asks, already climbing to his feet. “He has some queries for you.” 

“If he does not mind my company.” Atem casts Yugi a stifled hopeful look, his eyes wide, and his face twisted between attempted neutrality and a delicate smile.

“I don’t mind.” Yugi says, face burning at the way his voice rasps. “Lead the way.” He stands, shoving another honey drenched morsel into his mouth. He wonders if the overconfident poker face of his other self would have been better or worse for his heart.

Atem walks a half step ahead of him, casting Yugi a curious look every so often. It’s only when Yugi parts the hangings of their destination that he realises why. He stares at his hand, the one that brushed the hangings and wishes the memories shone through stronger. He shakes his head and trails after Atem into the room.

Atem's already settled on a cushioned bench, another just like it sits on the opposite side of the low table. Intricately woven tapestries adorn the walls, nothing overtly personal, just nice geometric designs. But then, Atem's too young to have accumulated many if any grand personalized gifts from foreign kingdoms and their dignitaries.

“I would like to play a game.” Atem starts, already setting up a board. “Every correct marble guess is a question that may be asked, there are three questions that can be denied, if a fourth comes up a previous denial can be asked in its place.” Yugi nods and settles across from Atem. The terms were fair enough. “Variants of the questions that were denied cannot be asked, and as a penalty the questioner can be asked another question.” Atem adds, straightening the pieces into tidy rows. “You have to get an exact number to exit the board, if you get a three with two spaces left you must move forward two and back one.” A long game as well, very long considering the six pieces. “The loser has to answer a forbidden question, or the winner can ask a favour that does not cause harm to the loser.” Ah, to ask multiple questions, or one important one.

Yugi studies the board, it’s Mehen again. But the two player variant this time. Six multicoloured marbles sit next to it. “I agree to your terms, youngest guesses first.” He swallows his knotted feelings and tries not to choke as they get caught in his throat. Yugi puts three marbles in his right fist and tucks the three in his left under the table.

“A correct estimate is required to get on the board.” Atem says, staring intently at Yugi’s hand. “Three. How did you know who I was in the Alley?” He didn’t even wait to see if he's right. This would be harder than expected. 

“Intuition mostly. Mana isn’t hard to miss, and your cloak was too new despite it’s quality. The hem wasn’t tattered at all. And there’s not many in the court shorter than her.” Yugi grins as Atem’s face twists into a pout before blanking. The poker face must've developed later into his reign. He places the marbles back on the table.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Atem huffs, as he snatches the marbles.

His hand is held loosely in a fist.

“One.” It’s a definite bluff.

Atem flips his hand and opens it. Empty. Yugi gapes, that underhanded- Atem had planned for a near infinite game hadn’t he? 

“You have a lot of questions don’t you?”

“Of course.” Atem beams, and he could drown in its radiance. His other self had never smiled so freely, with no weights sealing his lips tight or enemies to cut with a crescent slash. “Five. Who did you give up your Ren for?” 

Already with the hard questions. Yugi slaps the five marbles on the table. 

“Myself.” It’s the simplest answer, and objectively true.

“I didn’t think you would answer that.” Atem frowns, gaze darting to the shadowed corners of the room. “Or for that to be true.”

“That’s why your conditions were so clear.” Yugi frowns, frost coating his words as a chill trails down his throat and freezes his chest. “You don’t trust me to give you a straight answer.”

“I didn’t think it would work.” Atem flinches, fingers curling tightly around a marble.

“One, why bother with this farce?” He slaps a lioness onto the board.

“I just wanted to see if you could be drawn into a Judgement Game, the items did not work properly and I saw the shadows coiling around you when you challenged those gamblers!”

He freezes, was that what Imhotep meant by uncontrollable Heka. He had thought it was weird that the men had refused his game, but then, Shadow Games wouldn’t be unheard of here. Numbly he shuffles a random amount of marbles into his hand. 

“Three.” Atem says, not even looking at Yugi. “Why are you looking for the thief?”

“I want to help him find the right path. I-” The rest of his reasoning gets caught in his throat, the words refuse to form on his tongue, and he has to repress the urge to retch. “Six, do you know the history of the items?” He points to the puzzle, but it’s not a puzzle, not yet. Still a solid pendant with a damning eye.

“My father refused to tell me. He said it was a gift from the Gods so we could better protect Kemet.” Atem frowns, grasping the cursed pendant. “Three, what is the history of the items?”

“I’m not allowed to say, but it has nothing to do with your Gods or prot-” Yugi chokes as a vice wraps around his throat and squeezes. He scrabbles at the intangible tendrils that apply pressure in measured pulses.

“Release him!” Atem yells, but even he can’t stop a Shadow Game. He grabs Yugi by his shoulders shaking him. “Abstain from the question! Please!”

Ha, right. “I abstain!” He rasps, slumping as the shadows retract. Atem’s grasp is the only thing keeping him upright.

“I forfeit the game.” Atem whispers, eyes glassy and his hands tremble in a way that Yugi’s never seen, too violently to bear the weight of any card. “Ask me your favour.”

On instinct he wants to refuse, to continue the game and give Atem all the answers he can. But, they can’t continue like this. His body's greedily taking in any air he can, and Atem looks ready to collapse the second his tremors stop.

He could ask for anything, his possessions, supplies to travel the Nile’s length, full access to Osiris’ temples. But when he looks at Atem, small and foreign as he was, all of that paled in comparison.

“If it would be of no burden to you-” He enunciates carefully, throat throbbing in protest as he grasps for the right words, as he slowly extends a steady hand to the wide eyed Atem “-I would like nothing more, than to be your friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Editing comprises almost entirely of contracting Yugi's words when possible. and adjusting progression by pruning scenes.  
> Later than intended but life gets busy like that.   
> Hope you're all doing well  
> Posted July 4th 2020


	6. Embers

**Embers**

It had been close to a week since he’d last spoken to Atem, despite the other flusteredly accepting his offer of friendship. 

He was shadowed near constantly by one of Akhenaten’s supporters or Akhenaten himself and loaded with a hefty itinerary of taxation review and agricultural reports.

“The Pharaoh has no need to concern himself with administrative duties, he has me for such things.” Siamun grumbles, gesturing sharply with his hound piece. “Atem’s primary duty is towards Ma’at and ensuring the Gods are treated with due respect, temple maintenance, monument design!” he stabs it three points further down the board, jostling the table violently. “Akhenaten will run him into the ground at this rate.” 

Yugi stares at the board, Siamun has the edge, having forced numerous special conditions on Yugi after a series of losses. “I can’t even get close to Atem, much less stop Akhenaten.” he sighs, tapping the jackals bronze rod against the board. “What can I do?”

Siamun clicks his tongue. “You will get nowhere forgetting yourself.” his eyes are slanted in familiar disappointment, Yugi’s missing something obvious. His heart aches at the look, he hasn’t seen it since middle school, when he’d lie about bruises and broken games. 

The pause lingers too long and the elder sighs, veil fluttering. “You should be second only to the Pharaoh as the vessel of Osiris, your current lack of power is due to Akhenaten.”

Yugi frowns “My lack of name, and foreign features make it difficult to approach anyone.” he pauses, the issue’s probably xenophobia layered into propaganda and superstition. “The priests have no time or regard for me, and Atem’s never available.” Siamun looks wholly unimpressed by his murmuring, but he continues, “You, Imhotep and Mana have no leverage against Akhenaten despite your positions, so there’s something fundamentally wrong with the courts structure.” Yugi rocks back in his seat, toes digging into the cushion as he presses further. “I need to find a way to Atem, but he’s always hovered over by Item bearers and guards. Mahad and Isis would be my best bet if it weren’t for Shada and Karim running double duty, but I can’t ask the guards directly.” 

“Do you think the guards are beneath you?” Siamun asks, expression shuttered into another layer of disappointment that has Yugi stumbling over his tongue.

“No! It’s just- I don’t know- They look uncomfortable and I don’t know how-” Yugi’s leg jackhammers faster as he searches for the right words.

“Have they been disrespectful?” the Grand Vizier asks sharply. “If so they will be reprimanded harshly or dismissed altogether, I will not entrust Heru’ur incarnate in the hands of those who fear Osiris’ vessel.”

“It’s me!” Yugi bursts, ears burning as words spill unwarranted. “I don’t know how to approach them!” 

“Tch, young men are all the same.” Siamun clicks his tongue, playfully this time. “So, who is the lucky soldier?”

The burn spreads to his face, and Yugi can’t stop the tide of denials that only further implicate him. 

“It’s not like that!” Yugi huffs, standing and dismissing himself to the tune of Siamun’s familiar chortles. 

Nothing can mortify him more after this, he might as well try his luck with the guards now. 

And yet, he leans against the doorway and drinks in the familiar sound for a few moments longer. A rich and familiar rasp that would bounce cheerily through the game shop and paint the halls in brilliant hues. Paired with Anzu and Jounouchi switching between bubbling laughs and tired groans, depending on the day.

The sound of footsteps break him from his reverie; now it was time to get to business. 

Internal palace guards would be of no help, their loyalty was likely directed towards Akhenaten, despite Siamun’s words, he doubted their conversation would stay between them. Younger foot soldiers were less likely to have that ingrained loyalty, but there would be less information, but then, rumours are ubiquitous.

Especially those about mysterious thieves who target trained warriors.

But first, a reason to venture outside. 

Meeting the people was weak, boredom would only make him look childish. Exploring the land; it would only further his outsider status. So what part of daily life would best suit his needs?

Menial labour was one, but it was hard and Yugi was bound to screw that up terribly; not to mention he could imagine Akhenaten using it to further distort his image. He could ask Imhotep if he needed any herbs from the city? Unlikely, but the best he had, if nothing else he could brainstorm on the way there.

He traces his way back to the medical wing, trying his best to hold his head high under the weight of reverent and fearful stares, the eyes of the palace workers burning hotter than any sun as they lowered themselves into deep bows. He could never get used to this.

Yugi quickens his stride, but doesn’t run, and keeps his own gaze forward, his destination was two halls down. He brushes back the linens and sees the old healer grinding away at a bowl full of blue petals and water.

“You look tense, are you in need of a tincture?” he asks, setting the bowl over a small flame. Yugi forces his shoulders to ease down, and gives a thin smile. “One would think you were in the midst of a great mischief.” Yugi’s smile collapses.

“I was wondering if you needed anything from the city.” Yugi sighs, these old men were as sharp and to the point as a well honed blade, but he supposed years of politics would do that. 

“That work is for servants,” Imhotep scoffs, and Yugi frowns. “If you forget your position, the court shall as well.” Imhotep stands, worn, spidery hands slip into the folds of his sleeves as he stares down at Yugi. “Look to the Gods for guidance, perhaps your patron can send you off on some menial task. Put the priests at ease as well, they have been anticipating your arrival for days” 

Oh, that was, it was perfect really. He gives his thanks and turns to leave, only to find himself groaning into the floor.

Black spots blink in and out as something sharp digs into his upper back.

“Mana, you know not to run through the halls, this is a place for peace and healing, not rampant mayhem.” Imhotep says, and the disappointment layered into that was impressive.

“I’m sorry Master!” Mahad wasn’t her teacher yet? “Meh- ‘Tem- I mean Prin- I mean Pharaoh! He sent me to look for Osiris’ chosen, have you seen him?” 

Imhotep only sighs.

“Please get off.” Yugi wheezes. Mana bolts upright, and dark spots dance faster as what little air he has is forced out.

“Oh Gods! I’m so, so sorry! Don’t tell Mahad!” Mana pleads, as Yugi pushes himself up. She’s prostrated on the ground, and this was so much worse than the servants.

“Don’t do that, it’s fine, I’m fine.” He rushes out, trying to get Mana to get up. Yugi looks to Imhotep for help, Imhotep who has turned away, his stool placed on the other side of the table so he doesn’t have to look at them. His jaw works up and down soundlessly, he can’t even think of something to say about that. He looks back to Mana “Didn’t you say that Atem, um, Pharaoh Atem was looking for me?”

Her head shoots up, sending him reeling back as pain shoots through his lower jaw. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow, yes!” Mana’s scrubbing at the impact zone, mussing already messy hair. “He’s in his apartments, and um, don’t let Akhenaten or any of the priests spot you.” she stares intently at the back of Imhotep’s head, as he climbs back to his feet.

“No, pain relievers are reserved for those injured in the line of duty, not careless bruises.” he shifts in his stool as Yugi finishes dusting the sand off his shendyt. “A word of advice traveller, no good comes from chasing shadows.”

Yugi leaves the room without a word, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to curl in on himself. The halls are empty of nobles and priests, only fleet footed servants rushing about with full pitchers that never lost a drop, and overflowing appetizer trays. But any hint of weakness could cost him footing. He exhales slowly.

He’d like nothing more than to sleep for a thousand years, maybe even three, but he can’t do that here.

He has a mission, and a conversation to get to.

Yugi adjusts his cloak, fiddling with the fish brooch, it’s ridiculously gaudy. It helps he supposes, and it wasn’t like the Puzzle wasn’t a tacky monstrosity. But then, the Puzzle held his dearest friend.

He stands outside Atem’s door, guards are mysteriously absent. 

He didn’t. No. That would be ridiculous. 

Yugi doesn’t knock before he slips through the door.

Atem had shucked off all his jewellery, a careless scattering of gold littering the ground. It’s only a few small pieces here or there in the seating area, rings mostly, all by spaces someone Atem sized could easily hide in or sneak out through. Yugi picks up all but one, and takes his handful to Atem’s room. 

Atem’s staring into a large slab of polished obsidian, adjusting a cheaply woven wig, sunshine locks poke cheerfully through dark reeds. Atem turned around with a brilliant smile, that he had no right to, not when he’s a friend in name alone.

“Scattering your jewelry is too deliberate for a decoy.” Yugi says instead of the bitter emotions that clog his throat. He walks towards the vanity and sets the gold down gently. “If you’re going to buy yourself time, you should hide your regular clothes and just go.”

“It’s less fun that way.” Atem dismisses with an easy wave of his hand, it looks small and delicate without its golden burden. “Anyways, I wanted to continue pursuing my investigation into the vengeful spirit that’s been disabling my soldiers. It has no right to harm my people, and my uncle isn't working fast enough.” he sounds upset, in the way children are when their toys get damaged for the first time. A shallow sincerity, that has Yugi worrying his tongue.

“Why me?” Yugi settles on, swallowing past the ever growing lump. “I’m not-” he’s not sure how to put all his reasons and feelings into a simple sentence, but he shouldn’t be Atem’s first choice for this sort of thing. “You shouldn’t trust me so easily.”

“If you are my friend, as you asked to be, then my trust is guaranteed.” Atem says, passing Yugi a reed wig that matched the one he was wearing. “Furthermore, you have already assisted in identifying the man disarming my men. Akhenaten has been investigating for over a year and hasn’t turned in anything relevant.” Akhenaten was likely trying to cover his own bloody tracks, the Thief King was tied too heavily to the sins of the past ruler for any information to not be incriminating.

“I had plans to go to one of Osiris’ temples.” Yugi says, sagging to Atem’s height as he fiddles with how the wig sat on his own unruly set of spikes. There really was no way to contain it. “And wouldn’t most criminal types be underground with the increased watches?”

“We can go there first, it will make for a fine cover.” Atem nods, with a self satisfied look, and Yugi’s sure that Atem hadn’t been this smug earlier. “And there are other sources.”

Yugi watches Atem through the obsidian mirror as he fiddles with the coarsely woven cloak Atem had left out for him. He didn’t act like the spirit from the puzzle, less guarded and more- Spoiled? Unsure? 

Young. That was the word, but there was hardly anything of his future self, as if all they shared was name and past alone.

"You don't have a plan." Yugi says, tugging the rough hood up, it was overly large, shadowing his eyes to what had to be a ridiculous degree.

"All plans falter when faced by fate." Atem grins, beckoning him over to a window. "If the Gods are good, we will find what we need."

"And if we don't?"

"We will, I have a good feeling." and with that Atem swings himself over the ledge. Is this what it feels like to be Anzu? To join in on ridiculous, Ill thought out plans out of sheer concern and mom friend instinct?

With a groan he follows suit, and let's Atem guide him through back gates that are bustling with guards and harried merchants trying to sell their wares to the local nobility.

“The Osirian temple should be in the eastern quarter, where Re sinks beneath the Nile.” Atem says, grabbing Yugi’s hand.

“East?” he asks, “We’re heading we-” oh, right ancient egyptians based their sense of direction on-

“The inundation begins in the north, and flows down past Iwnw to Hellas in the south.” Atem huffs. “Any further and it would likely lead to the Duat, those savages have no respect for women, no independence or legal rights!” oh! There was the spark of the Atem he knew! Sort of. “Utter nonsense to disregard half your population and pantheon. Did you know Ma’at is considered a minor goddess there? As if order is a minor consideration to the status and upkeep of one’s land and people!”

“Do you not like the Gre- the people of Hellas?” Yugi asks, as they drift through crowded streets.

“King Dartz of Atlantis was quite kind and open when I was younger, but his soul has become sick with greed in recent times.” he tenses to avoid flinching, but Atem seems to notice anyways. “You’ve seen their kingdom haven’t you? Princess Kris used to send me letters often, but they have grown sparse as of late.” Atem sighs, “I suppose our engagement will be annulled with the weakening of her kingdom. But one must doubt their claims to divinity, if the king’s soul is so easily corrupted.”

That was a lot more than he expected. He kind of wants to sit down and process everything that Atem just dropped like it was common knowledge.

Which most of that probably was, but still.

“She’s not in line?” he asks, he only knows about the Atlantean family from what his Other Self had told him, and Kris seemed to have been an only child. 

“No, even if her elder brother Prince Timaeus were to fall in battle, it would pass to one of the other ‘Dragon Knights’, likely that blond Critias, Hermos lacks political direction.” 

“The teal one with the odd resemblance to you is the Prince?” Yugi asks, because what? To which Atem gives an inelegant snort.

“You are an odd resemblance, Timaeus is a distant relation.” he laughs, as they gradually approach the grandest building on the Nile’s bank. It’s the size of a block, with towering pillars and looming seated statues of the Gods. “My father’s great-aunt married into the family years ago, the blood has thinned, but the hair remains strong. It’s one of the reasons my father married my mother despite her status as a minor noble, she was one of the few who still had our hair.” Atem gestures vaguely at his covered head. He then fishes a small pouch out from his cloak and tosses it to Yugi. “A small offering for your patron, I’ll go about inquiring as you commune with Osiris.” he wanders away from Yugi, pulling his wig off as he addresses one of the priests, who nearly falls over himself at the sight of his diminutive king in peasants garb with the unruly hair of a child. 

He tugs off his own suffocating wig, and scrapes his nails through matted sweat soaked locks. Ugh, it felt disgusting, more so than usual, he missed modern luxuries, like air conditioning, and eyeliner pens. Kohl sticks were smudgy and awful, and felt heavier than the clean lines of liquid liner.

He shakes his head, no use complaining, he chose this. With a purposeful stride and a straight back he moves deeper into the building. Kemet’s buildings were straightforward in nature, the most important room was always a few halls down from the entrance, with the residential and barn blocks running along the outer edges of the larger structures.

The slapping of sandals greets his ears, and Yugi spins as he moves to grab his dec- seeds, all he has is a seed pouch. This was perhaps poorly thought out; here he was, traveling with Atem with no ways to protect them outside of their disguises. But, it was just a priest.

“My lord!” He withholds another flinch, only his lips stretching thinly. “We have been awaiting you, the goblets spoke of your arrival.” The goblets what? “A banquet has been prepared in your and the Pharaoh’s honour.” Yugi swallows painfully around the growing lump in his throat, what he would do for a clean glass of water right now.

“That’s unnecessary, Pharaoh and I cannot linger for long, we’re investigating a possible-” what was the Thief? An enemy, but one with good cause. Hn. “there has been sightings of a wraith from Kul’Elna, we would like to see it appeased, but it moves often.” sweat begins to bead on the priests bow as a cool breeze passes through.

“A dangerous task, even for those with the Gods blessings.” the priest's tongue flicks over his bottom lip. “A curse like that will require all of the God items to break, you should return with them.”

“A curse can be broken through other means than force.” Yugi frowns, scraping his brain for a relevant myth. Aset and the Name of Re wasn’t particularly relevant, and neither were the Contentions. “If his target is the military, then the root of his anger is based in violent action.” he tries to explain to the blank faced priest.

“Vengeance cannot beget true peace should it be met with violence; it resolves nothing and will only justify the wraith’s mentality.” Atem intercedes, a soft smile on his face as he appears behind the man who’s gone ashen and still. “If he is able to be appeased, we will, and we will send him on his way peacefully,” the smile drops, as Atem’s voice quavers just the slightest bit as he stands taller, hardly noticeable, as he says, “but if he is unreasonable, a beast with nothing but violent aims, he will be treated as such.” 

“The fishermen have spoken of a white haired figure cloaked in bloodied rags heading further north. We expect his presence in the capital any day now, Great Pharaoh” the priest says, no irony tracing the title. “Be wary in the coming days. If you would excuse me, I have to put an end to the banquet preparations.”

Atem dips his head in acquiescence, and the man scurries off.

“Will you really kill him if we can’t reason with him.” Yugi asks, watching Atem for any hints. 

“It is my duty to uphold order and peace, if we cannot negotiate it, then the only way to end this chaos and violence is with the thief’s death.” Atem says quietly, fingers tugging at themselves. “I will take no pleasure in it, but he has crippled good men. Without the stipend I’ve ordered their families would struggle.” what caused the Puzzle Spirits vengeful nature? Was it just a side he hasn’t seen yet, one for proven criminals?

“Then let’s hope he’s reasonable.” Yugi says, he can only hope Zorc isn’t directly involved with Bakura until the Ring, or the tomb robbing.

“Yes.” Atem murmurs. “We’ve been out longer than expected, will you be able to complete your prayers?”

“I still have two ten-days, it can be put off.” Yugi says, tugging idly at the pouches drawstrings, there's not much to report or ask. He could interrogate the God about why the Sky Dragon of Osiris was nestled in the hole his soul has had since birth. But, that wouldn’t get him anywhere, not that there was anything in the rules preventing him from praying more often, but he had a feeling there was a specific reason it was a monthly requirement. “Anyways, I’m sure the priests are turning the palace upside down trying to find you.”

“Ha! That would be quite the sight, I’m sure Mahad is fully capable of such a spell too!” Atem grins, as they make their way out, wigs back on as priests bustle past them hurriedly. “But I was thinking we could stop by the docks so you can see the full beauty of Re entering the Duat.”

“You just want to interrogate the local fisherman.” Yugi smiles as they make their way through bustling crowds. 

“If we’re already here, there’s no reason not to take the opportunity.” Atem shrugs easily, tugging him out of the way of a burly dock worker, and towards the river bank. “He’s already most of the way, but-”

The sun is sinking behind the Nile's other shore, dying the world in rustic oranges and bloody crimson. It matches Atem’s eyes perfectly in colour, even in the way the clouds are shaded the same smoky hue that rings his iris.

“Am I really more interesting than Re-Atum’s descent?” Atem asks, with a lopsided grin, and it’s so achingly familiar that his brain and tongue stop working together as his heart throbs painfully.

“Your eyes, they hold the sunset in them.” Yugi says, and wants to immediately curl up and die.

“Oh!” Atem’s hands curl over his mouth as a shy smile stretches past his hands and rounds the apples of his cheeks. “I’ve never heard that one before, I think it’s my favourite.” he pauses, hands dropping. “It’s always blood, or rubies, or wine- which may as well be blood -but never the sun. They would probably think it an ill omen, the end of an era, but it’s warm and gentle, nurturing in the way all those other things can’t be.” Atem pauses, voice growing thick. “Things that I wish the Pharaoh could be and not just represent, but I am to be all of the previous, the kingdom's pulse, and crown jewel who ensures wine will continue to flow into the cups of the people.”

“Would you choose another life for yourself?” Yugi asks, as Atem curls into himself, but at the question the others head shoots up, shaking violently enough to lose his wig as he grasps at Yugi’s hands, encasing them as his eyes burn brighter then the sun could ever hope to. 

“No, I love serving the people. I want to do right by them, even if I am not allowed to be myself.” Atem’s grip increases as he takes a shuddering breath. “Because sometimes, to serve the greater whole, there are those who must be cut to ensure healthy growth.”

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to save everyone.” Yugi says quietly. "People cannot be equated so easily to the clippings of a plant."

“But I can’t afford to do that as Pharaoh.” Atem cries. “And how could we protect the kingdom without the Ka’s of criminals, sacrifice is intrinsic to Kemet’s continued prosperity.”

“There’s always another way.” Yugi presses, “Is a kingdom built on the sacrifices of the unwilling truly upholding Ma’at?”

“I don’t- it shouldn’t- but my father-” Atem stumbles back as his eyes gloss over with a sheen of tears. “I need to go.” he turns and runs, pulling his hood up.

“Atem, wait!” Yugi shouts, trying to find Atem in the crowd, but he’s already disappeared.

“I shouldn’t have pushed him so hard.” Yugi groans, as his eyes begin to burn. “He doesn’t have the knowledge he needs.” He palms at his eyes as the sun continues to sink. “I’m such an idiot.” 

A scream pierces the air, and he straightens immediately. 

Smoke floods through the streets as orange licks up the building and dances merrily on the towns thatched roofs.

Oh Gods, Atem was in that. 

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has it been a month? Oops. Have worldbuilding through failed smalltalk because if I'm going to force myself to write past a block there will be unnecessary backround.  
> Politics is the one game Yugi is bad at, and if he's lucky he won't become an expert like Atem was.  
> Is this edited, no. In fact, I just finished.   
> What is the ember here? You tell me.  
> Posted August 5th 2020


	7. Hell

**Hell**

The thing about fire is; it’s not the flames that will kill you, it’s the smoke.

A dense cloying swirl of pitch that coats your eyes and lungs, leaving you vulnerable to the traps and labyrinths created by a hunger only comparable to a black hole in how it’s never satisfied by its wake of destruction, always craving something to fill an ever present void.

And Atem was trapped in that, alone. Again.

But this time he doesn’t have the protection of a cursed golden shell, trapped instead by delicate flesh, and blood, and bone.

The water was likely full of cholera, filth and unnamed horrors. Would the extra minutes be worth possibly fatal or debilitating illness?

He made due without once, he can do it again.

Eight minutes in a sealed warehouse with nothing but tears and searing shattered gold were worse odds than a blazing city.

Yugi dashes through the crowds, pushing through the opposing currents as he looks for any sign of Atem in the burbling panic.

If he were an Atem with shaken foundations, where would he go?

Not to the palace where trust was tenuous and respect false. Not to the temples where he couldn’t crumple.

The Ka shrines weren’t in the area, so where would it be familiar and isolated?

The gambling district?

He misses their bond, how easily they crossed paths unthinkingly in the Dark RPG, the Thief had run.

He treads forward, deeper into the smoke, and tugs on ephemeral strands of memories that were and were not his.

Eyes squeezed shut against burning acrid black he races forward, footing as sure as it can be in a street flooded with discarded goods and crumbling buildings, but that isn’t what trips him.

He tumbles, eyes flying open as he collides with a shock of black, and white, and brown. 

“You almost killed Sheta, you stupid noble!” is hissed into his ear as sharp elbows cut like dull blades into his gut. 

Yugi scrabbles to his feet, hands and knees blistering under the contact with searing sand. He swiftly wraps his smoldering cloak against his mouth with screaming fingers(he'd thought the old scars would have better protected him), and is immediately glad that it hides his gaping.

It’s the Thief King, Bakura, if that’s his name again. Smudged in soot, with ash staining his hair and a sneer on his young hollow face as he clutches a tortoise close to his chest. A tortoise with a candle melted to its shell. Which is perhaps, the least important thing at the moment, but bizarre.

“Have you seen someone like me pass by, a younger, shorter, darker boy?” he asks, extending a hand to help Bakura(?) to his feet. He might as well call him that, he doubts the Thief would tell him if it was true or not.

“I haven’t seen the baby Heru’r, run along vessel of Osiris.” Bakura sneers, dark and ugly, but without fear. “Before it’s too late for Ma’at’s failed arbiter.” So Bakura knew, and didn’t care, unsurprising, but it stirs coals he thought long dead. 

“You have quite the reputation Phantom of the Wastes,” Yugi says, shoving his roiling anger away for another time. His hands grip into Bakura’s burning shoulder like pale talons. “A grudge against the last King’s officials, but never have you brought your case to court. Never to be addressed before Ma’at, help me find him and I will do all I can to ensure justice for Kul’Elna.” he hacks as smoke finds its way deeper into his lungs and pulls away from the thief. 

Bakura’s dark eyes glisten in the dancing fires, a spark flickers, and he gives a sharp nod, before gripping Yugi’s front and leaning in close, until there’s barely an inch between them. “Fine, but if you lie, I will have your heart.” viscous saliva stretches between sharp canines, and rank garlic breath assaults his nose. 

Yugi gives a sharp nod, and the thief turns on his heel, a short “Follow me.” that has Yugi struck by the burning urge to wrap his hands around the thief’s throat, to push and press until every truth bubbles past his cracked and lie blackened lips. Instead he shoves down the thought, deep into the boxes of emotions he had no time or place for, and follows the thief deeper into the flickering city.

Eight minutes have burned away already, the limit for enclosed spaces, it’s likely they have only five more to find Atem, and after that, it’s anyone's game. But Bakura tugs him through hidden alley’s with a confidence that speaks of deep familiarity.

He’s watched Atem before, often, but he’s never acted upon his anger. Still rational and calculating, not yet consumed by the acrid darkness and dripping bile of Zorc. 

They’re on the fringes of the city, where the smoke has wound down, where a set of bluffs overlook a steep drop into the Nile. And a small shrouded figure sits curled on the edge. He hesitates, balling trembling fingers tightly, cutting into soot stained palms.

“Well?” Bakura sneers, tortoise still clutched to his chest.

“Atem.” Yugi calls, as soft as his smoke filled lungs can manage. He spits to the side as a cough burgeons in his chest. There’s no reaction. “I’m glad you're safe, and I’m sorry.” sorry that he said too much too soon, but not of the words themselves.

“Stranger.” Atem barks in reply, and he can’t withhold the flinch, the sharp ache to his chest at the biting tone. “My city is in ruins and you come with the perpetrator, were you conspiring with him from the start? Playing me for a fool, like a child?” Atem doesn’t bother to turn around as he throws accusations like knives. He can hardly breathe, each attempt at speaking ending in a tremulous wheeze.

“Tch,” the Thief clicks his tongue, drawing Atem’s sharp bloodshot gaze, tear tracks cutting through his soot streaked face. “You really are a child if you think a single thief can raze a city this quickly.” a cruel smile, all yellow teeth and schadenfreude as he continues. “The only reason you aren’t dead where you stand is because you couldn’t have orchestrated this.” Akhenaten then, and Atem seems to be coming to a similar conclusion.

“Why would my men do this?” he hisses, scrubbing angrily at his face.

“Are they truly yours?” Bakura laughs, dry and cracking and ugly, like the shattering of overheated glass. “You’re nothing more than a puppet, you can’t corral your men, and you can’t protect your own people from them!” 

“Silence yourself!” Atem shouts, voice cracking and roughed by tears. “I- I don’t-” he looks wildly at Yugi, eyes wide and frantic, bleeding pale soot and desperation. “Stranger, I demand your aid!” he grips Yugi’s wrist tightly and his palm is like a balm against his burning skin. He tugs roughly as if Yugi would ever withhold his help. “I’m going to summon the God Dragon of Osiris.” 

“You don’t have an item, it’ll kill you!” Yugi tries to tug his wrist away, Atem hadn’t worn his puzzle, it was too noticeable, too bulky. “What good can we do if we both die?” he presses, even two lifeforces weren’t enough to summon a God, much less maintain it.

“It will be well worth summoning the harbinger of the inundation, I’m hardly of import to my court as the Thief said, so let me do this!” Atem cries, other hand trying to sink into his chest, as if he could drag Osiris out through sheer force. And it burns but not nearly as much as Atem's words sear his heart like hot pokers twisting through the pulpy organ.

“A benevolent puppet is preferable to a full shadow court.” Bakura spits, storming closer, pressing his ragged nails through the rough linen of his cloak. “The cost should be lessened split three ways, but I demand the return of my people for this boon.” 

“I can’t guarantee all of the items, but I can start with the one held by the perpetrator.” Atem says with a shake of his head. “They’ll depose me and allow my uncle to ascend if I were to hand them all to you at once.” 

“Fine.” Bakura huffs. “Now start your incantation.”

“Unnecessary,” Atem snips, as if it were the time.

“Just do it before there’s nothing left to save!” Yugi snaps tired and sticky, and near sick to his stomach.

“I summon thee, Saint Dragon of Osiris.” Atem murmurs, fingers withdrawing, a trail of red miasma chasing after, and a shudder passes through him as the void in his chest reopens. “Oh, God of the flood, I request that you assist us in our time of need, to split the sky with thunderous force and grant us rain amidst this drought.”

Yugi collapses, back against Bakura as Slifer shoots into the sky in an odd reflection of the flames below. Lightning curls in his mouth, and he can feel his life force whittle lower as Thunder Force gathers, the world blurring darkly around the edges as sound pitches out and everything is so very, very hot.

The blaze of lightning is launched, shattering black skies with splinters of blue and white, and as the first heavy droplets of rain spatter against his face, Yugi lets the pitch swallow him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The true hell is rereading Millennium World, realizing characterization was not great there, and sulking about it for a month. So canon is 100 percent being disregarded now. Atem's in canon reaction is incredibly lackluster regarding the items origin and Bakura is evil the whole time at different degrees.   
> Also Bakura seems the type to learn upper dialects just to sneer in the face of classism and to throw eloquent words at them in spite.   
> Posted September 11th 2020

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to comment on this absolute rush job, but I wanted to get it out by June 4th for obvious reasons.  
> The title is taken from an Arabic proverb, I would have searched for a period relevant one but alas, time seeks to hack me into pieces.  
> Now to go dig myself out of my assignments.  
> Expect sporadic updates from this beleaguered student.


End file.
